


What A Druid Should Wear

by Anatolius



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arthurian legend - Freeform, F/M, Merturia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 16:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10442397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatolius/pseuds/Anatolius
Summary: Merlin had a talk with Arturia before her wedding, and found something he had never been aware of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A short Merlin/Arturia story based on Garden of Avalon  
> As English is not my first language, there could be horrible grammatical errors in places I'm not aware of yet. Please let me know if you have any suggestion on grammar or collocation. I'll be happy to get feedback  
> Thanks for reading!

Merlin had worn his ceremonial robe only twice - once for Arturia’s baptism, and once for Uther’s funeral.

  
He had heard an interesting claim that a house was not a real home until it had been consecrated by a birth, a wedding and a death. Similarly, now that he had witnessed two of them, Merlin thought casually, maybe he, an emotionless incubus, would be closer to a real human.

  
After he returned from Uther’s burial, Merlin struggled out of that bulky coat of six colors and the golden torc, and got scratched by his brooch. Then he winced in pain as he tried to take off silver earrings. _No one could persuade me into putting up all these things again._ he swore, _Not even for my little king’s future enthronement._

  
Ah, his little king…… with his hand at the chin, Merlin thought of the day when he carried baby Arturia to the church for her baptism. She was surprisingly quiet, and he didn’t even need to croon a lullaby as every other custodian on this planet had to do for their babies. Arturia accepted the immersion with no crying, just as later she accepted her fated responsibility with no plaint.

  
“It’s strange that you, as a human child, seem to have no more human feelings than me.” he said to the baby, half in jest.

  
Merlin didn’t realize he was making a prophecy.

  
Long afterwards she was not any more the fragile baby he held in arms, but a firm king who fought with all her might for her not-so-firm people. She had learnt how to guard the kingdom with her sword, blood, guilt, and maybe a cold heart as well. On her way of kingship she never glanced back, or stopped to listen to those who wept because of her, or for her.

  
“King Arthur learns nothing about human feelings.” They said at last. “It’s no surprise considering that his heart is of a red dragon. You can’t expect a non-human existence to feel in a human way.” 

  
But King Arthur just ignored their whispers, as time left for Britain was too little to allow her to stop.

  
Except for once. _Only once._

  
“Do you also believe I learn nothing about human feelings, Merlin?”

  
It was the night she wrote a letter to inform King Leodegrance of her agreement to the future marriage to his daughter, Guinevere. Merlin reminded her again, with an unconscious mischief, that this marriage was destined to be in name only, and nothing but a trade for the round table. His pupil calmly sprinkled sand on the paper to dry ink, and then looked up.

  
“I won’t deny that.” she said, “I need the round table, which King Leodegrance claimed as his daughter’s dowry. Without it and the knights it will choose, Britain would be doomed to ruin. That’s what you said, Merlin, right?”

  
“Will you regret it one day?” he said, expecting a troubled expression on her face.

  
“So what?” she whispered, “Can I refuse it?”

  
It was the first time he heard something close to, though not yet, “plaint” from her, and maybe even Arturia herself didn’t realize it.

  
He was therefore silent for a moment, thinking of the baby he once held to his chest years ago --- warm, fragile, like an external heart of him, if he could have a human heart. Now she had turned into a best sword, which was too sharp to hold to anyone’s chest. _She should have._ he told himself. _I tutored her, I advised her, I trained her to be like this._

  
Yet he couldn’t suppress the inexpressible emptiness inside. It was like he really had a human heart there, once, and now it was taken.

  
Getting nothing but a long silence in response, Arturia allowed herself a wry smile, and signed her name at the bottom of the letter. When she spoke again her reason and calmness already came back, like an impenetrable armor.

  
“Well, everyone says I learn nothing about human feelings, and now even I myself start to believe that, Merlin.”

  
He stared at her, finding the words evaded him. He had long been teaching her to abandon human feelings, just as her father Uther did. It was sarcastic that he should hesitate when she seemed to be almost there eventually.

  
He was not acting like himself today. An incubus never hesitates.

  
Was it because their fates had been so closely bound up that when she was no longer that girl she used to be, he would no longer be that emotionless incubus, either?

  
“Tell me I’m doing the right thing, Merlin.”

  
He knew she was demanding a prompt rather than his advice.

  
“Yes.” he heard himself telling her, “You’re doing the right thing.”

  
At length Merlin wore his ceremonial robe for a third time - once for Arturia’s baptism, once for Uther’s funeral, and once for his pupil’s wedding.

  
He watched as Arturia walked to the altar in a robe that was threaded and embroidered with gold, looking as handsome as every happy groom. She took Guinevere’s hand, and then kissed her with the crowd’s cheers around. Everything went right. Everything was perfect.

  
So perfect that he couldn’t tell whether she was just concealing her feelings, or she had abandoned them all.

  
He had heard an interesting claim that a house was not a real home until it had been consecrated by a birth, a wedding and a death. Now he had witnessed all of them, but that didn’t make him closer to a real human.

  
Will a real human feel depressed at his pupil’s wedding?

  
How could a real human feel depressed on such a joyous occasion?

  
“……Best wishes on your marriage, Artu--- King Arthur.”

  
Merlin said softly, pouring his glass of wine on the ground.


End file.
